


When My Boy Walks Down The Street

by GingerTodgers



Series: Tru Luv [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Daily Prophet, Engagement, Established Relationship, Exposure, Harry Potter Next Generation, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerTodgers/pseuds/GingerTodgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Albus and Scorpius are outed by The Daily Prophet their families call a council of war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When My Boy Walks Down The Street

They were in bed when the owl arrived. With one wing slightly shorter than the other, battered tail feathers and crossed eyes; it could only have come from Aunt Hermione.

"What happened to that beautiful Tawny Owl Dad got her?" Albus asked as he detached the scroll.

"Think she gave it to Hugo, didn't have enough of a tragic backstory." Scorpius' arse was in the air as he groped under the bed for the special Fair Trade owl treats Hermione insisted all her owls preferred.

Momentarily distracted, Albus didn't notice the lopsided owl dive into a open bag of Wotsits sitting on the window sill. By the time Scorpius righted himself, flushed and clutching the bag of Fair Trade Treats for Fair Minded Fowls, the little owl was covered in orange cheese dust and cooing happily.

 _Boys_ the note read  _I don't want you to worry about a thing. Put the kettle on and sit tight; Ron has owled both your parents and we'll Floo over in 20 minutes. Try to put some clothes on and don't let Cyril eat anything processed, poor little thing has a relaxed sphincter and e-numbers only set him off. Hermione xxx_

Two heads whipped up in time to see Cyril's "relaxed sphincter" redecorate their radiator.

"Right," Albus muttered, lurching over to the wardrobe and dragging out a pair of jeans, "I'll get the front room, you sort the kitchen."

Scorpius grabbed one of Gran Weasley's jumpers and followed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and groaning at the sight of another owl, tapping against the kitchen window. "What do you think's going on?" He asked, easing the window open and grabbing the scroll.

"No idea," Albus called from the other room, the sound of crashes and cleaning charms muffling his voice. "I'm just going to Vanish this bong, ok?"

"Which one?" Scorpius called, frantically scooping two weeks worth of breakfast debris off the table and shoving it into the nearest cupboard.

"The one shaped like a cock, don't think Uncle Ron's blood pressure would survive an early morning encounter with it. Was that an owl I heard?"

"Yeah it's from your dad;  _Lads, we're on our way. I didn't spend the prime of my teenage years in a sodding tent for those jumped up dung beetles at The Prophet to spread this kind of poisonous hatred. P.S. Albus, I say this with the greatest love and support for you and your life choices: put some fucking clothes on._ How's the front room coming?"

"Looks alright," Albus appeared at the kitchen door. "Why does everyone assume that we're constantly naked?"

"Probably because you attended the last family dinner shirtless and wearing only one sock," Scorpius muttered as he rooted through the cupboards. "Where the fuck is the posh coffee?"

"Why do you need that? Mum and Dad'll be happy with a pot of Yorkshire. Although get the hobnobs out, Mum says sugar helps channel her aggression."

"Maybe your parents will be happy with tea but the Malfoys will be expecting the finest fresh beans, ground between the buttocks of a minor Greek deity and poured out by Professor Dumbledore himself, especially resurrected for the occasion. Now where the fuck is the coffee and what the fuck is this?!?"

Hearing the dramatic tone shift in his boyfriend's voice, Albus closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to The Patron Saint of Terrible Timing. Opening his eyes and turning away from the kettle he was rewarded by the sight of Scorpius gently swaying and clutching a small, black velvet box. The box was open and Scorpius was blinking rapidly at the twin gold bands, nestled inside.

Before Albus could say anything the Floo chimed.

"...the righteous fury of a thousand Malfoys..."

"...going to envy Voldemort by the time I'm done with them..."

"...picked up a delightful little hex from Augustia which rearranges the victim's orifices to..."

"...George was telling me about this Muggle device called an Iron Maiden..."

A whirlwind of parents filled the kitchen. Ginny and Astoria making straight for their sons, dishing out hugs and reassuring pats with equal ferocity ("You're so pale Al, come and sit down, have you got any biscuits?", "Oh my poor Scorpius, your hands are shaking, Draco put the kettle on..."). Harry and Draco were meanwhile debating the use of Unforgivables in non-life threatening situations and whether it was time to reopen the Malfoy dungeons.

By the time they were all seated at the table Scorpius had regained his ability to construct one-word sentences and Al was determinedly inhaling his way through a bottomless mug of tea. Ginny was wondering if it was time to call in those favours the Gringotts Goblins owed her while Harry's arm appeared to have become permanently attached to Al's shoulders. The Malfoys were alternating between telling Scorpius they loved him and practicing Transfiguration charms on the boys' vacuum cleaner. Astoria favoured weeping sores while Draco was demonstrating an aptitude for exploding appendages.

"So..." Scorpius croaked. "What, exactly, is going on?"

Al studied the table, fairly certain a pair of stormy gray eyes were attempting to burrow into his skull.

"Yeah, Mum? Dad? Why um... why are you here?"

"You haven't seen The Prophet?"

"No. We were. We were asleep when Hermione's owl got here and... um..."

"Oh. Oh! Well its..." Ginny cast an anxious glance at Harry, "it's nothing really sweetheart, just a bit of silliness. We'll sort it out, don't worry."

"The Prophet have outed the two of you," Draco interrupted, mouthing "what?" at Ginny's huff of annoyance.

"What?" Scorpius turned to his father. "But we've been out for years."

"Yes, to us, darling" Astoria said, giving him a quick pat. "Unfortunately as of this morning you are now out to the rest of the Magical World and their choice of headline leaves something to be desired."

"Something to be desired?"

"'Death Eater Spawn Traps Potter Heir In Chamber Of Depravity'" Draco drawled.

Al snorted and gazed around the kitchen, still cluttered with unwashed dishes and biscuit crumbs. "So this is what a Sex Dungeon looks like then, bit disappointing."

Scorpius chuckled and their eyes met for the first time since that ring box had disappeared into Scorpius' pocket. "Oh I don't know, a few chains, maybe that Iron Maiden thing your mum was on about..."

"I'm sorry, darling, I don't understand," Astoria interrupted. "If you aren't bothered by the headlines then why were you so upset when we got here?"

Woooosh, the Floo chimed again as Hermione and Ron stumbled into the kitchen.

"...precedent from the anti-House Elf discrimination cases of '08 and '09 suggests that we can file a counter suit for..."

"...wizards always forget we can punch people. It's all spells this and hexes that but sometimes violence really is the answer..."

Astoria, Draco, Ginny and Harry were quick to leap in with their own suggestions and, as voices rose and people began scoring battle plans into the kitchen table, Al stood to refill the kettle.

"It's yes, by the way." A quiet voice spoke at his shoulder, a pale arm wrapping around his waist. "My answer."

"Well good," Al sighed, leaning his head back against Scorpius' shoulder. "Should we tell the rest of them?"

"Hmm" Scorpius kissed Al's neck, "Once they've finished destroying and then rebuilding The Prophet's masthead."

"Good idea, don't want to spoil their fun."

**Author's Note:**

> "Everyone sings hallelujah when my boy walks down the street  
> Life just kind of dances through ya from your smile down to your feet"
> 
> Inspired by The Magnetic Fields - When My Boy Walks Down The Street


End file.
